Reclamation
by PrydainViolet1
Summary: A series of flashbacks and one-shots from different characters. Meditations on how Ellie presents a second chance and a shot at redemption for those who encounter her.
1. Tess

Tess was twelve when the world ended. Her mother roused her out of bed, wrapped her in a blanket, brought her to the attic and ordered her into the crawl space. Tess, her mind still fuzzy with sleep, complied without question until her mother bent to kiss her forehead shaking so hard that her teeth knocked against Tess's skull. That was when Tess knew she should be scared. She curled up and her mother shut her in the dark with the warning to stay inside as long as she could breathe. Tess stayed in the dark for a long, long time. Sometimes she would think about peeking out the door, but then she would remember the sound of her mother screaming and stay put. She waited past hunger, past wetting herself, waited until she could no longer fill her lungs when she tried to breathe. By the time she realized she needed to move, she found that she couldn't because her muscles had seized and her joints were locked. She thought she would die then, alone in the dark, and that fear jolted her like electricity. Aided by the flood of adrenaline, she kicked out the door and pulled herself free. Gasping and stretching, she told herself that the pain she was feeling meant she had survived. She was still alive, and she intended to stay that way.

Once the order of the new world settled it didn't take long for Tess to figure out how to win herself favors and protection from the men who had the things she needed. It wasn't so bad, or at least she could take it better than most of the other girls did, and she made her way in that manner for a good many years. Time passed, one thing led to another, and she somehow found herself slipping into a life of crime, which, surprisingly, seemed to be the easiest way for her to live. Tess, who had always been a precociously bright and focused girl, made something of a career for herself. Not long into this new line of work she taught herself how to fight and kill. She couldn't screw her way out of everything, after all. Besides, why should she bother to persuade people to help her when she could force them to give her what she needed? It was a nice change. Some part of her, long buried in a dark corner of her mind, wondered if maybe things were actually getting worse, but she didn't care anymore.

When Joel came along he didn't want the things she usually offered as incentives, and he wasn't scared of her, so she was never really sure of why he partnered up with her in the first place. She suspected it was because she gave him plenty of opportunities to hurt people. He never hurt her, though. In fact, he taught her how to be a better fighter, and a faster killer. After she started partnering with Joel, Tess earned a different sort of reputation for herself. People were outright scared of her now, and that worked for her. Things tended to go smoother with him around. She never had to rely on her old methods of persuasion any more, even in a pinch. Joel could force a man to do anything she wanted.

It was Tess who decided the two of them should just share an apartment rather than setting up a constant schedule of clandestine meetings. He shrugged and said it was only a matter of time before one of these assholes she was always pissing off tried to kill her in her sleep, so he might as well hang around just in case. Turned out he was right. A few weeks after her partner installed himself on her couch a dissatisfied client followed her home, got the drop on her in the hallway, and nearly twisted her arm off before Joel arrived and hauled him up to the roof. Tess was never exactly sure what transpired up there, but Joel assured her that no one would ever be coming by again, and she believed him. She tried more than once to show him some appreciation for his help, not because he asked her, but because she wanted to. He would always put her off, pushing her hands away or turning his back whenever she got too close. In the end it was the whiskey that brought him to her, and maybe that was wrong, but she didn't really care. She wasn't counting the number of drinks, but the bottle on the floor next to the couch was mostly empty when she unbuckled his belt, feeling surprised and pleased when he didn't stop her. He didn't stop her from bringing her knees to rest on either side of his hips either, and didn't push her away as she unbuttoned his shirt to nuzzle soft kisses along his collar. She felt his hands slip under her shirt and grab at her waist, and she hurriedly squirmed out of her jeans as he lifted her off his lap to lay her down on the cushions. It was over quickly, but she enjoyed it in a way that she had never felt in her previous encounters. She liked his weight pressing down on her and his hot breath on her neck, and the way he tried to be gentle with her. It became part of their routine – a way to celebrate surviving a hellish day or to blow off some of the steam that always seemed to be building up between them. There were none of the lingering kisses or whispered sweet nothings that she used to see on her TV when she was a kid, but she didn't want those things. Sometimes he would fall asleep with his arms wrapped around her body, holding her close to his chest, and that was enough.

There came a day, not the first of such days, when one of their clients, Ethan, decided not to show up with their payment. Tess hated assholes like Ethan. She just wanted to deal in crime fair and square; she couldn't abide a cheater. Tess took that shit personally. When it became clear that Ethan was trying to skip out on them, Tess and Joel paid a visit to his grimy apartment. Fair is fair, after all. Joel let her get a few punches in, then beat Ethan to the ground and held him there while Tess searched the place for what they were due. She opened every disgusting drawer and prodded into every filthy corner. Nothing. Bracing herself, she went into the bathroom. After checking behind the sink and the toilet she snapped back the shower curtain. Tess felt her blood turn to ice. There on the mucky shower floor sat a little girl looking up at her. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and the scrawny arms wrapped around her legs were stained with purple bruises. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and her bottom lip was scabbed over. Tess never had much familiarity with children, but this little girl couldn't have been more than seven years old. Something dark and dangerous ripped open side of her then and rattled jarringly through her mind. She knelt to the ground and slowly, slowly, reached an open hand towards the girl. It was a long, heavy moment before the girl reached back.

"Where's your mom?"

 _Shrug._

"When was the last time you saw her?"

 _Nothing._

"Do you live with Ethan?"

 _Nod._

"Is Ethan your dad?"

 _Nod_.

"Do you love Ethan?"

 _Nothing._

"Would you like to leave here, and never see Ethan again?"

 _Nod._

Tess placed the girl's arms around her neck and gently lifted the little body into her lap. Once she felt the child's legs wrap around her waist Tess stood up and walked out of the bathroom. She heard Joel's string of curses at the sight of her. Tess let him get a good look at the bruises and made sure to meet his eye before she walked out. She needed to see the rage there, needed to know that the man at Joel's feet would die. She liked what she saw, and left assured. _Bye-bye, Ethan_.

She carried the girl out onto the street and began to walk to the military orphanage. It would be a shitty life for her, but less shitty than the one she'd known so far, and less shitty than the one she would have if Tess tried to keep her. Tess wasn't mother material. Hell, she wasn't even babysitter material. _But still…_ As if sensing Tess's guilt, the girl started to make small whining noises. _Crying_ , Tess realized. _Shit_. She started smoothing the girl's hair and humming stupid old songs that didn't mean anything anymore. _Ain't she sweet? See her walking down the street, and I ask you very confidentially: ain't she sweet?_ The girl quieted, so Tess continued, even started singing the words. She only remembered the lyrics to the one verse, so she repeated it over and over again.

"Ain't - she - sweet? See her wal-king down the street, and I ask you, very con-fi-den-tially: ain't – she – sweet?" The same stupid song. All the way to the orphanage. She was a little worried there might be some questions when they arrived, but there weren't. No one asked many questions any more. She told the uniform that she found the girl hiding in an apartment with a dead man, which was essentially the truth. The guard nodded and gestured for Tess to give up the kid. She caught the girl around the ribs and pulled the little body away from her waist to set her down on the orphanage steps. The girl blinked up at her with her one good eye and Tess thought about saying something _(good luck?),_ but didn't. She just turned and walked away, and went back to her shitty life with Joel.

When she got back to apartment, she found Joel slumped over on the couch, elbows propped on his knees and head resting in his hands. His knuckles were split and bleeding. His sleeve was torn, and there was a splatter of blood up his cheek. She got a rag from the kitchen and walked to his side, but when she reached to wipe his face he pushed her hands away. Startled, she stood there silently for a few moments, her hands hovering uncertainly between their bodies. She wished he would let her look after him, just a little bit.

"Joel?"

"Leave me alone, Tess." His voice was a growl, cruel and cold. Suddenly Tess felt her throat close reflexively, the way it used to do when she was a child and wanted to stop herself from crying. She turned and stalked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her without another word.

Hours later, when she was lying in the dark thinking about that little girl's swollen eye, he knocked softly and slipped through the door. She remained silent, so he sat on the floor near the bed. Even from a distance she could smell the whisky and blood on him.

"Sarah," Joel said. "Her name was Sarah." And there, in the dark, Tess learned about Joel's daughter. He talked for hours. About Sarah's mother being the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen and how they couldn't keep their hands off each other. How, when he found out there was a baby on the way, he thought they would be a family – not the lonely, broken kind of family that he and Tommy had as kids, but a real family. He didn't care that he wouldn't get to go to college, but Sarah's mother _did_ care. How he had to beg her not to give the baby up for adoption and even hired a lawyer to make sure he could have custody. The endless hours of working his ass off, the long sleepless nights when he brought the baby home. Naming her Sarah because he read that it means princess and that was what she was to him. A thousand little stories about the color of her hair, the movies she liked, the soccer games she won. Tess heard all this things, all these pieces of Joel, and buried them inside her, kept them in a secret, guarded place where they couldn't hurt her. He fell asleep there on the floor, and Tess tried not to weep.

In the morning they pretended none of it had happened. Tess hoped that would be enough to get things back to the way they were before, but it wasn't. Joel started sleeping on the couch again and they both started drinking too much. Sometimes Tess would think about that little girl with the bruises on her arms and wonder if she shouldn't go back to that orphanage. It twisted in her gut, kept her up late at night. But otherwise it was business as usual. There was always new cargo to be moved. She and Joel started working on a new deal, a real sweet deal that would make living easy for months if it panned out. The two of them spent all afternoon pacing around the apartment, hammering out all the details. The whiskey bottle came out and it started to feel like old times again – more relaxed and comfortable. Tess started to feel optimistic and let herself get a little carried away. She sidled up close to him, nudged her hip against his and looked up towards his face, smiling. She felt her smile drop when he turned and met her eyes. His expression was distant and cold, like he didn't recognize her at all, like she was nothing to him. Things were never going to go back to the way they were. Not now that she knew about Sarah. Tess turned away, walked to the bedroom and shut herself in the dark, alone. She waited until Joel fell asleep, then left to go make the deal on her own. She could see her mistakes clearly now, all of them twisting in her gut.

She shouldn't have abandoned that girl.


	2. Joel (I)

"Catch me, Daddy!"

He adjusted his feet to get a firmer grip on the gritty cement of the pool floor and held out his arms.

"All right, honey. Be careful now."

She leaned forward over the edge and reached out her arms before bending her knees to jump. When she leapt off the edge of the pool she wasn't in the air for half a second before he caught her, but instead of pulling her to him he held her out and pretended to fall backwards.

"Whoa, no!" he shouted in mock distress, bending his knees and beginning to dunk her under the water.

"Daddy!" She yelled, and he felt tiny fingernails digging into his forearms.

"I'm just kidding, honey." He stood up and pulled her against his side. She giggled nervously and wrapped her skinny arms around his neck. She was smiling now, but he felt her legs circle around his waist, too. Slowly this time, he bent his knees until they were both chest-deep in the water, and started to turn in lazy circles. When Sarah didn't relinquish her tight grip on him, he cut his eyes at Tommy who was sitting at the side of the deep end with his feet dangling over the edge. He caught the signal.

"Sarah baby," his brother called out, "you're almost five now, you need to start learning how to swim."

"I am," Sarah retorted, and tightened the grip of her legs before releasing Joel's neck to wave one arm ineffectually through the water. A gaggle of athletic-looking college girls on the other side of the pool giggled delightedly and leaned towards each other to smile and whisper. Tommy made a show of ruefully shaking his head at his niece and then grinned over at the laughing girls. Joel rolled his eyes, but hid his own laugh by kissing the top of his daughter's golden head. Her hair smelled like chlorine and sunlight.

"Don't let go of me yet, Daddy," Sarah said softly, so Tommy couldn't hear.

"Not ever, baby girl," he whispered back.

…

Some odd spark of consciousness flared up to warn him that he was sleeping. Joel felt his stomach drop and half a heartbeat later his eyes opened. _Ellie_. He stood up too quickly and stumbled over his own sleep-heavy legs, so he crawled along the floor instead, reaching out in the dark until he felt the shape of her sneaker under the blanket. It wasn't enough. He rested his hands on the ground on either side of her body and leaned over, waited until his ears picked up on the sound of her breathing. It was there, steady and soft like clockwork. Ellie was alive. Ellie was sleeping. Ellie was alive.

 _Sarah was dead_.

Joel sat back and leaned against the wall, felt the grief and exhaustion settle on him like a weight, breathed loudly and tried to clear his mind. Tried to think of something else, anything else. He wished Tess was still alive. He wished he had something to drink. _He wished his daughter wasn't dead forever_.

Ellie muttered softly and squirmed a bit. Joel stilled his breathing so he could listen, but there were no clicks, no shrieks, just the sounds of sleeping humans. Henry was snoring softly, and it sounded like Sam was crying a bit in the other room. Better to leave him alone, boys his age needed privacy sometimes. His eyes began to adjust to the dark and he could make out the lines of Ellie's silhouette on the floor. She looked small. He needed to get some food in her, more than berries and canned vegetables. She was probably still growing, although he doubted she was going to get much taller. Not like Sarah who had been in the middle of a growth spurt and needed new clothes every few months, all gangly limbs and long feet. She had been the spitting image of Tommy when he was that age, and Joel had figured she was going to shoot up the same way his little brother did. He didn't know what Ellie's family looked like, but she seemed to have mostly grown into herself, and those little hands of hers didn't belong to a tall girl. _Damn, she was small_. He felt a sudden wave of anxiety at the thought. _What was he going to do with her? How could he keep such a little thing safe?_

He didn't like what happened on the bridge. When she jumped and disappeared from him into the dark of the river, a fear rose up and smothered all other senses within him. As he jumped after her there came a terrible realization that if he did not survive, she would die as well. She needed him, and that was difficult enough, but there was more to it than that. She jumped because she knew he would follow her. She trusted him, and the truth of that fact burned him to the core. He didn't want that trust, had never asked for it or deserved it. Yet she had given it to him, and bound her precious life to his. No good was going to come of this.

The room seemed too quiet again. Silently, Joel inched himself closer to the shape on the floor until he was near enough to hear Ellie's breathing. The steady rhythm calmed him, and he felt himself drifting into sleep, falling back into the dream – or was it a memory? Either way, she called to him.

 _Catch me, Daddy!_


	3. David

**A/N:** Trigger warning for assault and self-harm. David is a dark guy, this chapter goes to some dark places, but is not explicit.

* * *

David spotted the girl hunting on the outskirts of his territory. He followed her for a while, watching. She was quick, with a light step and a way of holding herself so she didn't make any noise when she moved. He liked the way she hunted, clean and efficient. When she went in for the kill he saw the fire in her, and thought it might be the same fire that burned in his own mind – the fire that had made him a leader of men. He followed her for a few hours. It gave him time to form his plan, and also time to look at her. She was nice to look at, maybe about twenty years old and tall for a girl, with a long braid of honey blonde hair that fell down the center of her back. He waited until she put down all of her weapons before stepping out into her line of sight. Her knife was out again in a second, but that second was long enough for her to get a good look at him, to see his submissive posture and his kindly face. This close to her he could see that her skin was pale and slightly burned on the tops of her cheeks from the sun. She had large brown eyes. _Doe eyes_. She paused, and that gave him enough time to start speaking. He knew the right words to make her hesitate. But just when he thought he was getting somewhere she stiffened and her eyes darted to the space next to his head. David turned and there, not two feet away, was a man holding a knife at the ready. _Damn, he was quiet_. David lifted his hands in the air and the man stepped quickly around him until he was standing in front of the girl. He looked lean but strong, late-twenties, and the hair that fell around his shoulders was the same honey color as the girl's. _Siblings. He could work with that_. David was good at persuading people to do things. If these two had survived for this long together there was nothing they wouldn't do to keep each other safe, and he could offer them safety. It took a long time and neither one of them lowered their knives, but he got them in the end. It was the threat of infected and the oncoming winter that convinced them, and the promise of solid walls and guards with guns.

He finally coaxed out their names on the way back into town. He was Jackson, she was Lizzie. David couldn't get much else from them. Neither seemed inclined to speak more than a word or two at a time, but he did notice them exchanging long, meaningful looks with each other. He supposed they had worked out their own silent language. David didn't like that. He brought them into town and the two made themselves useful right away signing up for rotations and lending a hand wherever needed. They were friendly enough, but didn't try to get to know anyone. People mostly left them alone, and that seemed to suit them fine. David made sure Lizzie crossed his path every day, made sure he always did something nice or said something comforting when she was near. Sometimes she would offer him a half-smile or a nod, but Jackson was never far away with his watchful and wary eyes. David didn't let it rile him. He was a patient man. He knew his time would come.

And then one day there she was, standing twenty feet from his house. Alone. David checked the rotation schedule. Jackson was supposed to be doing an inventory of supplies in the shelter. It was perfect. He opened his door and walked out to her as quietly as possible. If she noticed him at all, she gave no indication. She was leaning against an abandoned, overgrown car, her arms were crossed, and she stared up into the hills. David followed her line of sight and was shocked for a moment when he saw that the leaves had changed colors and the trees were stained with vibrant shades of red and orange. He hadn't even noticed. He looked back at Lizzie and found himself starting into her eyes.

"Nice, isn't it," she asked.

"Nice," he replied, surprised at how difficult it was to force the word out. She had never really spoken to him before. Lizzie looked back out to the hills.

"Sometimes I think if it wasn't for Jackson… Why bother, you know? But then I see something like this, and I'm glad we survived after all. At least for a little while." Her words worked on him like magic, drawing him closer to her. He couldn't think of anything to say, but she seemed to forget he was even there. His eyes lingered on her throat and the pulse beating softly there, traveled up the curve of her neck to the wisps of honeyed hair that escaped from her braid.

"It's beautiful," he said softly, his eyes never leaving her. He felt overwhelmed by her presence, and stood in awe of the fate that brought her to him. This was the moment _._ Everything was his for the taking. Slowly, he reached out to brush the braid with his hand and found himself smiling at the softness of her hair under his fingertips. She whipped her head around and stumbled away from him, but he already had a grip on the braid and she jerked to a halt, wincing as her hair pulled taught against her scalp. Her eyes sparked at him then, the fire leaping up and burning him with its power and beauty. He expected the knife that struck out at him and deflected it easily. He yanked hard at her hair to pull her off balance and onto her knees. She screamed at him – raged and cursed and shouted all manner of accusations about his character. He struck her face with the flat of his hand. The shock of it stung his palm and vibrated up his arm. He didn't like doing it, but it quieted her fast. He wrapped the rope of hair around his fist and hauled her up. She staggered along behind him as he strode back to his house. He felt her fingernails tearing at the skin of his hand, heard her screaming out for help again, but no one tried to stop him. This was David's town, and his people knew exactly what he was capable of.

He didn't want her to hate him, so once he got her inside he figured he would just make sure she couldn't escape and then leave her alone for a while to think things through. At first he thought he could lock her in the closet, but once she was in there he heard her flinging herself against the door, beating violently at it, and knew it wouldn't hold her in. Next, he wrestled her into a chair and bound her up with ropes and leather belts. He hadn't walked away from her more than a minute when he heard a crash and went running back to find the chair toppled on its side and the girl kicking desperately at the splintering legs. He was annoyed, but also glad to see so much spirit in her. He got a blanket and spread it out on the floor, extricated her from the chair and retied her wrists and ankles together, then rolled her up like a cocoon and tied another belt around her chest and arms. If he could just get her to keep still and calm down he would explain everything and she would start to see things clearly. She fought him at every step, but he could tell she was exhausting herself. By the time she was finally trussed up in the blanket David was tired, too. He sat on the floor looking down at her and regaining his breath. She wasn't struggling much anymore, but her eyes never left his, and he could see the anger and fierceness there. He reached to pet her head and told her that she didn't have anything to worry about so long as she stayed with him. He leaned down to kiss her cheek and heard her teeth snap loudly at the air close to his face. He chuckled softly and smiled at her, and that was when she started crying. He tried to comfort her – laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms to hold her close and still her shuddering. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and told her how it was her destiny to be here with him, how he would keep her safe from all the dangerous things in the world. He told her about the first moment he saw her and how he knew she was special, and all the tender sweet things he felt when he looked at her. She cried louder and began wailing out desperate lost noises that tore at his heart. He covered her mouth with his hand to shush her, but the wetness of her tongue under his fingers broke something loose inside him and before he knew what he was doing he rolled her underneath him and pressed his open mouth against hers. For one precious moment she was all his, but then his head jerked back involuntarily and he felt himself being hauled up by a fist in his hair. It was Jackson, his face red and furious. David had always known that the brother had to go, of course, but he hadn't planned on doing it like this. It was better, though, to let Lizzie see it. That way she could finally understand what he was capable of, and what he could sacrifice for her sake. Jackson was young and strong, but his rage and desperation kept him from focusing and made him sloppy, and David had been killing men stronger than himself for a long time. As the two men grappled, Lizzie writhed in her blanket and shouted herself hoarse begging them to stop, offered to do whatever David wanted if he would just let Jackson live. David didn't like to hurt her, so he made it as quick as he could and slit Jackson's throat as soon as he got an opening. Lizzie groaned when her brother fell at her feet. It was the last sound David ever heard from her. He dragged the body out to the front steps. His men would bring it to the kitchens later. Lizzie wouldn't have to know about that. Not yet, anyway. He looked up towards the hills. The trees really were beautiful this time of year.

David thought that once Jackson was gone Lizzie would finally understand that he could protect her better than anyone else could. Instead, he watched the fire inside her die out, saw the light leave her eyes. She didn't beg, didn't even cry, just went limp like a ragdoll. Like she was already dead. He thought for a while he might be able to bring her around again, but nothing he did seemed to rouse her. He pulled off the blanket and untied her. She didn't struggle or try to run when she was free. He lifted her in his arms, pressed her close and kissed her mouth as gently as he could. When she didn't respond he kissed harder and harder, tightening his grasp and biting her lips until she bled, but still nothing. He let her go and she dropped back to the ground without trying to break her own fall. Once he realized the fire was never coming back he passed her on to his men. He figured she would keep them distracted for a while, but it didn't take long for her to lay hands on a knife and open her own veins. It was a disappointment, but David understood it was part of the plan. He knew there was a bigger picture.

Winter came and the leaves all turned brown and fell before the snows arrived. Supplies ran low, but his people were already anxious and suspicious. It wasn't a good idea to harvest among them. So he sent out a group of hunters looking for fresh meat. Only a few returned with stories of a madman who had tried to murder them all – a crazy man with a horse and a little girl. David didn't know what to make of that, but he trusted that all would be revealed in time. Everything happened for a reason. A few weeks later he was out hunting game when a bleeding stag stumbled to the ground and died practically at his feet. David knew right away it was a sign. And then she appeared out of the snow. A mere slip of a girl - small, but fierce. Beautiful. Dark hair ( _chestnut_ , he thinks is the right word), and eyes clear and green like little pieces of sea glass. He knew right away - knew that fate had brought her here, that this special little girl was meant for him. He could see the fire in her.


	4. Joel (II)

Joel knew they were making too much noise. The snow crunched loudly under their heavy footsteps. His breathing was raspy and labored, Ellie's shallow, quick and shrill. He was counting on the swirling snow to hide them from view, and the sound of alarm bells and burning buildings in the town behind them to distract any infected or hunters that might be roaming through this part of the wilderness. Still, they would have to stop soon. They were too loud and vulnerable. Joel was holding Ellie to his side and leaning on her at the same time. He was sagging, she was shaking. They needed to stop and find cover, but it didn't feel like they were far enough away from that goddamned town yet, so he kept moving. Suddenly, Ellie started to push away from him. His hand clenched around the fabric of her jacket to pull her back.

"I'm gonna be sick," she moaned, and yanked herself free from his grasp. She stumbled a few steps away from him and dropped to her hands and knees, retching into the snow. As she heaved and gagged, Joel knelt beside her and put a hand on her back. When she finished coughing up the last of it, Joel scooped of a handful of snow and held it to her face.

"Here. Chew on this and spit it out." She did, and when she looked back up at him he picked up another handful.

"Hold still for a second, honey, I'm gonna clean you up."

She nodded, and he held the back of her head as he smeared the snow over her face, wiping off the blood and sick. She winced, but didn't make a sound.

"Good girl," he said softly, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"We'll stop soon, but I want to go a little further, okay?"

"Okay."

Joel tried not to groan as he stood. His entire body was one massive ache, and the pain in his gut burned so fierce his vision wavered. He felt Ellie's little shoulders propping up his arm and her body pressing against his side. They leaned on each other and kept walking.

Eventually they came across a road and followed it past a series of abandoned, open windowed cars on until they found a U-Haul leaning into a ditch. Someone had already scavenged most of the contents, which suited Joel fine. He and Ellie pulled themselves in to the back and Joel lowered the door, leaving it open the bottom for air. It wasn't ideal, but it would do for the night. Everyone and everything seemed to have bunkered down in the snowstorm anyway. He clicked on his flashlight and swept the beam across the floor to check for vermin, but the only live thing was Ellie leaning against the wall. Her teeth chattered audibly and her face was drained of color.

"Sit down before you fall down," he said, and she bent her knees and sank to the floor. Joel double checked, triple checked the truck, scanned the outside and lowered the door a little further until the air blew in through a sliver.

He sat down next to Ellie and opened his coat, reaching out to her.

"Come here, girl." She hesitated a moment, then pulled herself into his lap. He closed the coat around her, wrapping her against him. He could hear that she was trying to steady her breathing, but her shuddering just grew worse.

"Hey," he tightened his grip and she looked up at him. Her eyes were so much older than he remembered, and Joel found himself hating that man she killed, the men he killed, and everyone else for that matter. He hated them all.

"It was either you or him. You hear me? I only wish I got there in time to do it for you."

She nodded, but her chin scrunched up and she buried her face in his shoulder. Her voice came at him watery and muffled.

"I just didn't _know_ -" The words stuck in her throat, like she was choking on all the things she hadn't known before.

Joel's hatred burned brighter. He dropped his head so his mouth moved against her hair, and felt the growl of his words vibrating through his chest and against her body.

"No one's gonna do that to you ever again. No one's gonna come close."

Ellie stopped shaking, but she didn't reply. Joel worried that she didn't believe him.


End file.
